


he will be loved

by galacticjellyfish



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - No Band, Cheating, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticjellyfish/pseuds/galacticjellyfish
Summary: I know where you hide, alone in your car,know all of the things that make you who you are.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross/Pete Wentz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	he will be loved

_beauty queen of only eighteen, she_ _had some trouble with herself  
he was always there to help her, _

_she always belonged to someone else_ __  
i drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door  
i've had you so many times but somehow i want more

Innocently, is how it always starts.

Among the sea of bikinis and swim trunks, Brendon found himself fixated on a scrawny, tall man. The boy was dressed in a faded gray robe, notably draping himself over Pete Wentz. Pete’s business was finding hot, young talent to push headfirst into the limelight, and these parties were allegedly a part of that process. All Brendon saw was an excuse to drink and ignore his personal life, but he still wanted to be a rock star, so he kept his mouth shut.

Mouth shut, but he was still eyeing up Pete’s husband. Ryan was his name, as Brendon would discover later down the line. And Ryan was absolutely stunning. Every inch of him screamed of something beautiful, from his angelic grin to his long, boney fingers. From his dark eyes to his lingering scent of vanilla and lavender. From the carefully crafted mask to the carefully applied eyeliner. It was like time had stopped, the first time he saw Ryan.

Time slowed, and Brendon could remember his heart shattering when Ryan’s lips turned from a playful smile to a depressed frown. He remembered seeing Pete’s half-heartedly pushing Ryan away from him, and how Ryan continued to stare at Pete for many moments more before turning his heel and walking away. Before, Ryan had been trying to curl into Pete’s lap, as Pete sat outside on a folding chair, and for the life of him he couldn’t imagine why anyone would reject such a gorgeous man, especially if that man was their said husband.

Brendon hoped he was just missing something, and that everything was fine, but the longer he stared, the worse it got.

It couldn’t have been five minutes later that Ryan reappeared in Brendon’s view, confidently strutting up to a group of young men close by where Pete sat. Brendon couldn’t see Ryan’s face, but he imagined Ryan’s lip caught between his teeth in fake innocence, doting his eyes as he gently pulled at the ribbon keeping his robe together, showing off his underwear-clad body to the gentlemen.

Confusion, then anger flashed in Pete’s eyes as he watched the scene before him. In one swift motion, he was out of the chair and grabbing Ryan by the wrist, dragging him inside their house. Most of Brendon was screaming at him to follow, _just go after them_ , but he couldn’t. He stayed frozen until he saw Pete reappear through a window ten minutes later, venting to Andy in the kitchen. Only then did Brendon dare to dart into the house, in the direction he saw them go earlier.

He barely heard it over the booming stereo and the endless chatter from everyone around him, but a faint whimper came from the basement, and that’s where Brendon found him.

Ryan’s back was to Brendon as he descended the stairs as fast as humanly possible. He was curled in on himself, shaking profusely and sobbing silently. The only response Brendon got when he put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder was a gasp, followed by more choked sobs.

“P-pete, I’m-“ Ryan wasn’t able to finish his sentence, voice frail and shaky.

“I’m not Pete.” Brendon blurted out immediately, “God, I’m not Pete. I’m Brendon, are you okay?”

Ryan’s entire body froze, and his head turned ever so slightly to catch sight of Brendon. Brendon gasped when he saw Ryan’s face, eyes blood-shot and, to only fuel the fire burning inside of Brendon’s soul, a bruise across his cheek in the shape of a hand, and a bloody nose.

“Oh God, what happened? What-“ Brendon paused, biting his lip, “D-did Pete do that? Are you okay?”

Ryan blinked up at Brendon, before adjusting himself so he was sitting upright, groaning in pain as he did so, and _God_ , how many injuries were hiding under that robe?

Brendon found himself kneeling beside Ryan, hand cupping the side of Ryan’s face left untouched, attempting to get a better look at the bruise. It looked dark and angry, and so ugly on Ryan’s porcelain skin. No, Ryan wasn’t ugly. This didn’t make him any less beautiful. It made Pete ugly. Pete was a monster, to hurt an angel like this. Brendon would never forgive him. Brendon wanted to spit on Pete’s grave.

“Are you okay?” Brendon tried asking again, desperate for something, _anything_.

Ryan continued staring into Brendon’s eyes, leftover tears still drying on his face as he leaned forward and connected their lips together into a tender kiss.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryan was always just barely out of reach, dangling right in front of him, always ready to become stardust if Brendon got any closer.

At least once a week in the year following the party, Brendon would get a knock on his first-story bedroom window, and he would let Ryan into his life, even if just for a night. With his parents barely home, Brendon never worried about him getting caught with Ryan, much to the comfort of an ever-anxious Ryan. Ryan didn’t seem to care if Pete knew he was there, but the subject of parents seemed touchy.

“I was named after my dad, actually.” Ryan rambled one night, “George. George is such an ugly name, don’t you think? But I was named after him because he was named after his dad, as if he ever gave a shit about his family. He was never around, but he caught Pete and I making out on the couch when I was sixteen and he kicked me out! I was sixteen, can you believe that, Bren? What kind of person would do something like that?”

Ryan made Pete out to be God, but Brendon knew better.

“Why do you stay with him, Ry?” Brendon noticed the way Ryan stiffened at that, suddenly not comfortable looking him in the eye.

“What do you mean?”

“Pete.” Brendon spoke again, “Why do you stay with him?”

“Bren, he isn’t usually like that.” Ryan grimaced when he heard Brendon exhale through his nose, “Bren, I’m serious. He isn’t abusive.”

“Ryan, I found you bruised and bloody in the basement, and you’re gonna sit here and say he isn’t abusive?”

Ryan stood suddenly, eyes ablaze as he looked down at Brendon, still sat on the bed, “What do you know, Brendon? You don’t know anything!”

Brendon’s words stay behind his teeth. _I know you put up with him because you’ve known him since you were at least sixteen, and he let you live with him after your dad kicked you out, and you never finished high school, and Pete supports you like I can’t. I don’t have money, but I could love you. I could show you how good love can be, if you’d just give it a chance._

And yet, no matter what, Ryan was always back. No matter if the night ended in giggles, tears, or screaming, he always came back. And Brendon always let him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brendon was entranced with Ryan, constantly trying to learn every detail about the man.

Ryan was 31, wanted to be a songwriter, and still kind of dreams of that life. He brings over his lyrics sometimes, and there’s a notable theme. Melancholy, infidelity, death. He loves dogs but doesn’t think he could care for one. He still wears makeup even though his dad tried to beat that out of him. The only people he cares about are Pete and Brendon and his best friend who has been sleeping under a tombstone for many years. Spencer, Brendon thinks was his name. Brendon’s never had to grieve before, and already he can count two deaths that forever changed Ryan. Then again, he and Ryan were separated by nearly a decade. 31 and 22. And yet, Brendon can almost feel the tragedy emanating from Ryan.

Then Ryan left him with nothing more than an apology note. He wanted to try and rekindle his relationship with Pete. What they were doing was wrong. It was all bullshit, and Brendon spent the coming weeks sobbing his eyes out and trying to remember the pitch of Ryan’s voice.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no doubt in Brendon’s mind that he loved Patrick, but _love_ and _in love_ were two very different things. Patrick was a darling, short and adorable and shy as all hell. His one true love was music, which Brendon never got enough of. Patrick’s soft, angelic hums lulled him to sleep at night and watching him rant on about his favorite records for hours at a time made his heart swell with joy. And Patrick’s eyes were a work of art, blue oceans with specks of gold, and were hypnotizing to stare into.

Patrick was a doll, an absolute sweetheart. But all too often, Brendon found himself alone with his thoughts. When the lights in his room were dimmed down, and he’s watching the ceiling fan chase itself, and he feels Patrick snoring softly against his neck, wishing it was Ryan he was holding. Wishing, somewhere deep inside of him, that those countless nights with Ryan would have become something more.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brendon doesn’t think Ryan has the right to be angry with him.

It had been months since Ryan last visited Brendon, when he decided to show his face again. And on date night, no less. That night was the night he and Patrick planned on going out to the movies, mostly to cuddle and make-out in the back of the theater. Patrick was practically clinging to Brendon, hips pushed together and fingers loosely linked. Some last minute affection before they were truly out in public. And that was how they walked out the door. And that was how Ryan saw them.

Ryan was sitting in his car, parked across the street from Brendon’s house, staring blankly at the couple.

Brendon expected there to be a screaming match in the middle of the street, but was instead surprised to see Ryan turn on the engine, and speed away from the house without a word.

Patrick’s eyes were wide, and he sounded uneasy, “What was that about?”

Brendon simply shrugged, “No idea.” And went many months more without his Ryan.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brendon has been dating Patrick for two years, but he's been dreaming of Ryan for three.

Patrick made cake for their anniversary, cutely decorated with tiny flower shaped candies and their initials written together. BU and PS, in a purple heart. Brendon laughed at Patrick’s reddening face and kissed him softly, loving every second of that night.

Then Patrick had to go home to study for finals, and it was just Brendon and Ryan. After a couple years, Brendon thought he would’ve finally moved on, but Ryan was an unfortunate addiction.

And speaking of unfortunate addictions, Ryan looked horrible. His hair was grown out now, greasy and messy. He was always cold, always trembling uncontrollably, picking at his nails and unable to articulate his feelings outside of screaming or crying. There was a shell of a person sitting next to him, clinging to his t-shirt, looking up at him with heavy bags under his eyes, begging to be saved despite not being able to recognize the problem. Brendon can barely remember when the transition between the Ryan he first met and the Ryan he knew now was. He just remembers looking out his window one day and seeing an angel that had scratched his way out of hell.

“Did you get a dog yet?” Brendon asked, putting an arm around Ryan’s shoulder. He felt bone.

“What? What’re you talking about?” Ryan’s words were slurred. Brendon curses internally.

“You said you wanted a Beagle. Did Pete get you a dog?”

“No.” Ryan mutters against Brendon’s neck, breathing shakily, “’cause I’m drinking too much or some bullshit. He said I can have one when I get better.”

Brendon doesn’t remember smelling alcohol.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s not cheating.

It’s not, he and Ryan aren’t together. They’ve never had sex, they haven’t committed to anything. They kiss, they cuddle, they flirt, but it can’t be cheating. It can’t be. Brendon can’t be the bad guy.

And yet…

It felt like leading Patrick on. Two years together and the entire time Brendon would have ditched him for Ryan in a heartbeat. He wasn’t in love with Patrick. Ryan was who he wanted. Ryan clearly wanted him still. But they both had people waiting for them each night, oblivious to the open windows.

“Brenny, do you want to go out tonight?”

Brendon cringes at the name Patrick calls him over the phone, and Ryan is smirking like a jackass through his exhaustion, but he keeps his composure, “Not tonight, ‘Trick. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Oh.” He could almost hear the frown on Patrick’s face, “Um, okay. That’s okay. Tomorrow, then?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, I love you, babe.”

“Love you too.”

Click.

Ryan plopped himself across Brendon’s lap, curling his legs into his body, and glancing upwards, “Brenny?”

“Shut up.” Brendon groaned, throwing his phone onto the nightstand, “It’s your fault he’s upset now.”

“Why? Cause you’re too scared to break up with him?”

“You have no room to talk.” Brendon’s words were venom but the hand he started running through Ryan’s hair silently said everything. There’s no fight behind his words.

“Mmm, not the same.” Ryan murmured, “Pete and I have been together forever. It’s complicated.”

_It doesn’t have to be._

“I wish it wasn’t so complicated.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete looked the same as he did three years ago, only this time seemingly with a better attitude and more love towards Ryan, because he openly hugs and kisses his husband now, nuzzling his cheek against Ryan’s neck and constantly pulling away from conversations to check on him. Ryan looks miserable when someone isn’t touching him, uneasy when they are. He’s not doing great.

And poor, naive Patrick, is over by them, unknowingly chatting up Brendon’s secret darling and the man who not-so-long ago was an abusive, toxic piece of shit. He and Pete seem to get along just fine. Pete seems genuinely interested in whatever Patrick brought up. Probably Soul Punk, the baby Patrick had been spending years creating, because that’s why they were at this party. To try and convince Pete Wentz to sign Patrick.

Ryan was staring past Patrick, directly at Brendon and it felt tense.

Even more so when Pete asked if he was alright, and his response was to pull away from the physical contact and across the yard.

Pete and Patrick stood there in shock, while Brendon immediately gave chase, yelling after him. It took no time at all to catch up, like Ryan had planned for them to end up like this.

Brendon saw Patrick in the corner of his eye, eyes wide and body paralyzed a few feet away. He didn’t dare look away from Ryan, both out of genuine concern for Ryan and an inability to look at the damage he’s done. There’s nothing he could say to explain the way his hand was snaked around Ryan’s waist, or how he was gently brushing away the bangs from Ryan’s eyes, trying to lose himself again. He wanted to lose himself in Ryan,. To forget how badly he’s fucking everything up. He’s fairly certain he’s ruined everything at this point. Two relationships, two music careers, two people.

Ryan’s eyes are glossy, soft lips slightly parted as he looked down at Brendon, like he was waiting for something.

_Waiting for him to finally decide._

As if there had ever been a choice to begin with.

Ryan’s lips were cracked, dry, but everything he needed in that moment.

_Don’t try so hard to say goodbye._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
